


what happened in brooklyn

by Anonymous



Series: angsty oneshots/short stories [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (kind of??), Amnesia, Angst, Assault, Brain Damage, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Flash Thompson Redemption, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Panic Attacks, Protective Tony Stark, Serious Injuries, TW rape mention (nothing like that happens though), They go hand in hand, sorta??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:26:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23977417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Six days ago, Tony found Peter in that alley in Brooklyn, laying amongst the trashbags, beaten, and nearly dead.AKA Peter is the victim of a violent crime outside of the suit and is left with a brain injury and no memory of the attack. It’s up to Tony to figure out what happened.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: angsty oneshots/short stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728802
Comments: 27
Kudos: 265
Collections: Anonymous





	what happened in brooklyn

**Author's Note:**

> sooo this was an idea i had a while ago and i’ve been working on it little by little for a really long time.  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- non-consensual drug use  
> \- violence, threats of violence  
> \- hazing  
> \- a BRIEF and vague mention of rape  
> \- i don’t think i’m missing anything else but let me know if i am!

When Peter awoke the first time, all he could register was how bright everything was. He opened his eyes into slits, trying to gain some understanding of his surroundings, but everything hurt, and what was in his mouth?

He brought a hand up towards his face, movements lazy, and found the tube that was secured to his face only for a moment before a hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling it away. 

“Leave it, honey,” came May’s voice. “Let it breathe for you.”

Peter’s eyes drifted over to look at her, but her figure was blurry and who was to say it was even really May? But he knew her voice, knew the warmth of her hand and the shape of the wedding ring that she still wore. He pursed his lips around the tube, struggling to say something, anything, ask what the hell was happening, tell her that he was confused and  _ scared _ \- but he couldn’t. 

“Just rest,” May said softly, rubbing a thumb across his cheek. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

He did. 

  
  


———————-

  
  


_ “Hey, Parker, have a drink!” _

_ Peter accepted the red solo cup, lifting it to his nose before taking a sip.  _

_ More drinks were offered by unfamiliar faces.  _

_ One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.  _

_ Something was wrong.  _

_ “You good, Parker?” _

_ Yes, yes, he was fine. Whatever was in his system he’d burn through soon enough. But now there was an arm hooked around his back, under both armpits, pulling him towards a staircase.  _

  
  


———————-

  
  


The next time Peter was awake, the tube was gone. He flicked his tongue across his lips, which were cracked and dry, then forced his eyes open once more. He heard a television playing some news broadcast, speaking words that Peter couldn’t grip long enough to understand. He opened his mouth in an attempt to breathe more deeply, but his throat itched in protest and threw him into a coughing fit. A straw was forced in his face, a voice saying “ _ it’s okay, just take a drink, you’ll feel better _ .” 

For reasons Peter didn’t understand, the words provoked a response so extreme that he lost the ability to breathe. His ears rang and his lungs ached and he was crying, but he didn’t know why. 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” 

May was laying on the bed next to him, cradling his head against her chest, and Peter tried to force the fear away but ultimately failed, falling back into unconsciousness soon after. 

  
  


———————-

  
  


_ “How the fuck’s he still awake?” _

_ “I dunno, maybe he needs more to drink.” _

_ “He’s already had a shit ton of booze,  _ and  _ whatever the hell you guys put in it.” _

_ A hand tilting his chin up, a bottle shoved in his face. “Okay, Parker. Drink this. You’ll feel better.” _

_ Peter didn’t know why he swallowed more of the acidic liquid, but he did, and the voices were right. He did feel better.  _

  
  


———————-

  
  


“Pete? You awake?”

The boy groaned, begging for sleep to come back in and claim him, but to no avail. Consciousness was here, and it was here to stay. He opened his eyes and his vision was a bit clearer now, as were his thoughts. 

This time, May wasn’t there. Instead, Mr. Stark stood by the door, expression creased with worry. 

“You with us this time?” 

Peter managed to find his voice. “Think so.”

Mr. Stark’s eyebrows rose and he approached the bed. “Okay, uh… didn’t expect you to actually… okay.” He sat at the end of the bed. “Your aunt is taking a shower, but she’ll be back soon.”

“‘Kay,” Peter replied. 

As the moments passed, Peter started to zone out. His eyes would drift shut, then he’d pull them open again and force himself to stay awake long enough to see May. When she came through the door, her wet hair hanging near her waist, May’s eyes blew wide when she saw Peter. 

“Hey, honey,” she said, moving to sit in a chair by his head. “How’re you feeling?”

How  _ was _ he feeling? What was even wrong with him?

“I don’t-“ He cleared his throat. “What happened?”

The smile was immediately wiped from May’s face, replaced with a familiar expression. It was the same frown she wore when she walked into the police station to pick him up after Ben was shot in front of him. It was an expression that Peter never wanted to see again. 

“We were hoping you could tell us,” Mr. Stark said from where he was still perched at the end of the bed. Peter looked over at May, who looked down at her lap as Mr. Stark continued. “I got a call from May at two in the morning. She said you weren’t home, but that the suit was still there. So I tracked your phone.” The man paused, glancing at May who nodded for him to continue. “You were in an alley. Naked. Beaten to hell, nearly dead.”

The silence that ensued was deafening. Peter reached a hand towards his aunt where she sat and she grabbed onto it, holding it to her face while she cried. 

“Are you sure you don’t know anything,” Mr. Stark asked. “I was able to find footage of people dropping you off where I found you, but I couldn’t identify them.”

“I- I-“ Peter stuttered for a moment, head aching with the effort to remember. “I don’t know, I- I was…” He was what? What was he doing?

_ “Have a drink, Parker.” _

_ “How the fuck’s he still awake?” _

_ “Another drink?” _

“It’s okay honey, you’re safe!”

May’s voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back into his body. She was holding him once again, and he was crying. Fear was overtaking him, but he just couldn’t figure out  _ why _ . He was scared and confused and he didn’t know what day it was or what happened and- and-

“Breathe, baby. Breathe for me.”

By the time Peter caught his breath, May’s shirt was saturated with tears and snot. Mr. Stark was still sitting at the end of his bed, but he was staring at the floor instead of watching him cry. 

“We can talk about it another time,” Mr. Stark said, standing. “I’m gonna go do some more searching.”

Peter watched his mentor leave, feeling shame creep in. He’d only known Mr. Stark for a year, and they’d only started getting closer since Homecoming a few months ago. And now  _ Iron Man  _ had seen him naked and half dead in an alleyway. 

“Honey?”

Peter looked up at May’s worried face. “I’m tired.”

She kissed his forehead. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here.”

So he did, in the safety of his aunt’s arms. 

  
  


———————-

  
  


_ Hands on him. It was cold, he was cold. Where were his clothes? _

_ He was exposed. Completely exposed, and cameras were flashing, and he could barely see, and he couldn’t think, and- _

_ Peter launched himself up, tackling someone and causing their phone to clatter to the floor. He tried to keep fighting, but the tackle took everything out of him.  _

_ Once the hits started, they didn’t stop.  _

  
  


———————-

  
  


Six days ago, Tony found Peter in that alley in Brooklyn, laying amongst the trashbags, covered in vomit and urine. He didn’t recognize the kid at first. His body was bloody and his face was swollen to the point that the only way Tony was able to recognize him was by the phone and clothes thrown a few feet away from him. 

Upon reaching the repurchased tower, the kid started seizing, violent convulsions wracking his body. Tony set him down on a gurney and immediately he was whisked away. 

Over the next two days, Peter went into shock, had surgery to release pressure on his swelling brain, had another surgery to reduce internal bleeding, and had far too many close calls. All the while, Tony was searching for something, anything to tell him what the hell happened. Was the kid doing drugs? Did he get himself into trouble? Was this Spider-man related, or Peter Parker related? The only lead Tony had to go off of was a grainy video showing four figures, all dressed in black, throwing the boy into that alley. FRIDAY couldn’t identify them and couldn’t get a good enough view of a license plate, either. 

After Peter’s meltdown when Tony tried to ask him what happened, the man didn’t try again. Instead, Tony opted to start talking to Peter’s friends, starting with the one who hacked the suit. 

Needless to say, the kid wasn’t very helpful. 

Most of the time, Ned just stared at him with wide, starstruck eyes. Trying to get information out of him was like talking to a brick wall- if brick walls had eyes that stared around Tony’s penthouse as if it were a dream. 

“You’ve gotta work with me here, kid,” Tony begged, trying his best to keep his cool. “Do you have  _ any  _ idea where Peter was on the eighth?”

“Uhh- Uhm- Yeah,” the boy stuttered. “We were- I asked him to come to a party with me.” 

_ Finally, something.  _

“A party? Whose party?”

“I- I don’t… really… know.”

Tony couldn’t resist clapping a hand on his forehead in exasperation. “You’re telling me that the two of you went to some  _ random  _ person’s house-“

“It wasn’t random!” Ned declared. “It was one of Betty’s friends- Betty is my girlf-“

“Listen, kid,” Tony interrupted, sitting on the couch across from him. “I don’t care about your girlfriend, I don’t care about how little common sense you seem to have-“

_ “Tony!” _

At the call, the man turned his head to see Pepper standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, some mix of anger and confusion on her face. 

“I  _ know _ you weren’t just talking to a child like that. Who is this anyway?”

Though Pepper knew that something happened to Peter, she didn’t know all the details. She didn’t know quite how severe it was, or that Tony was scouring New York City for answers that seemed like they’d never come. 

“This is Ed-“

“Ned,” the teen corrected. 

“ _ Ned _ . Peter’s friend. He was just about to tell me what happened to land the kid in  _ intensive care _ and  _ nearly dead. _ ”

“What?” Tony turned back around to face Peter’s friend, who had gone pale. “What do you mean he almost died? I thought he was just busy or something- is that why he hasn’t been answering my texts?” When the hero didn’t answer, Ned’s eyes filled with tears. “Is it because I left him alone at the party?”

Tony winced, knowing he needed to stop that train of thought quickly. “No. This isn’t your fault, kid. Just… If there’s anything you can remember from the party, it’ll help, okay? Anything.”

Wiping a tear from his cheek, Ned nodded. “It was a huge party. I didn’t know most of the people there, but Midtown is a big school, so I didn’t think much of it.”

Tony pulled a pen and paper from a nearby drawer. “Can you write down the address?”

The kid nodded and started writing. “Uh- if you can… could you… tell Peter that I’m sorry for leaving him alone? I just… I got distracted-“

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony reiterated. “It’s not your fault.” He pocketed the paper and pen. “Happy will drive you home.”

Ned sniffed, but stood and moved toward the elevator. Pepper approached and sat next to him on the couch, resting a hand on his knee. 

“Honey,” she said. “What’s going on?”

So Tony told her. 

  
  


———————-

  
  


_ “I swear to fuck, Parker, stop struggling.” _

_ “No way. No fucking way. How the fuck-“ _

_ “Hold his hands!” _

_ He was restrained. Hands, feet, all over his naked body.  _

_ This was hell. _

  
  


———————-

  
  


Before Tony even got the chance to search the address Ned had given him, he got a call from the police station. He’d informed them about the case and asked them to help track any leads, but so far they hadn’t had any luck. Until now, that is. 

“Some kid just came in saying he has info on the Parker case,” the deputy said. “It seems legit. You should probably get over here.”

Not wasting a second, Tony was at the station within the next ten minutes. He barged through the doors and the deputy he spoke with on the phone immediately identified him and started leading him down a hallway. Tony set his jaw as they approached the door of an interrogation room, ready to grill whoever was in there. 

The door opened. Instead of revealing a menacing figure that Tony was going to have to interrogate, what he found inside was a boy Peter’s age, who looked up in fear when the door slammed open. 

“T-Tony Stark?!”

“Yeah,” the billionaire said. “And you are…”

The kid gulped. “Eugene Thompson, sir.”

  
  


———————-

  
  


_ “Stop it! Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” _

_ “Grow the fuck up. If you’re not with us, you might as well join him.” _

_ “No! God! Fine! I- I’m with you.” _

  
  


———————-

  
  


“So… You know Peter?”

Tony raised an eyebrow at the question. He’d assumed that the kid told people about his internship, but maybe not. “Yeah. And you’re going to tell me what happened to him, isn’t that right, Mr. Thompson?”

The boy’s bottom lip quivered for a moment, and he looked like he wanted to hurl. He buried his face in his hands. “I fucked up, is what happened. I- I didn’t mean for any of this-“

“I’m gonna stop you there,” Tony interrupted. “I don’t give a shit what you ‘meant’. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re gonna sit up and tell me what the hell happened.”

Eugene sat straighter in his chair. “Okay. Okay, uh… Where should I start?”

“From the beginning.”

With a gulp, the kid began. 

“I started hanging out with this group of guys. Seniors. They… They seemed cool. At first, I mean. One day one of them said that if I wanted to keep hanging out with them, I had to pass- like- a test? I wasn’t sure what they meant.”

_ A hazing.  _

“Go on,” Tony urged. 

The kid took a deep breath. “So they told me to pick someone to prank. I- I picked Peter because- I dunno, I just like to mess with him sometimes.” Tony’s blood began to boil, and it must’ve shown on his face because Thompson rushed to explain. “I thought we were just gonna give him one of those glitter bomb things or something! Maybe put something in his locker that smelled like shit- I don’t know! I never thought they’d take it this far!”

Tony swallowed. “Okay. So new friends, they wanted you to mess with someone, you chose Peter. Then what?”

“Okay, uh… William- one of the guys- was going to throw a party. He told me to make sure Peter showed up. So I told Betty to invite Ned, because I knew that Ned wouldn’t go if Peter wasn’t, because they’re basically joined at the hip-“

_ God _ these kids were so shitty. 

“-And once they got there it was really easy to distract Ned, right? So once he was out of the picture, Will, Jason, Ricky, and Owen said they’d take care of the rest, and I was  _ so confused  _ when they kept telling people to give him drinks, but I still went along with it-“

“Take a breath, kid.” Tony held out a hand. “Do you know how much they gave him?”

Eugene swallowed anxiously. “That’s just it,” he said. “They gave him so much shit. A ton of vodka, and they put something in with it too- I don’t know what it was- and he… Sir, he should’ve been  _ dead  _ after the first few drinks. But he was still awake, and they couldn’t get him to calm down long enough.”

“Long enough for  _ what, _ ” Tony demanded. 

The kid covered his face, speaking through a gap between his hands. “They wanted to get him wasted, then steal his clothes and take pictures.” Tony felt physically sick with rage, but held it in while the kid finished. “They wanted to let him loose into the party while he was drunk and naked. Make a fool of himself.”

Tony set his jaw. “Anything else? You know, what typically happens when people are roofied and stripped naked?”

A beat, then Thompson’s eyes widened. “No! God, no. That… At least I don’t  _ think  _ that was the plan. But then again, I guess I’ve proved myself to be a poor judge of character.”

The last part was mumbled, and Eugene looked down in shame. 

“Keep going,” Tony instructed. 

“Right. So, uh, they managed to get his clothes off, but only after giving him a shit ton of tequila. And- and once they started taking pictures, everything went…  _ really _ downhill.” Eugene’s eyes became glassy with unshed tears. “He- Peter started fighting. And they- they started- just kicking the absolute shit out of him.” He wiped his eyes. “I tried to get them to stop, I really did, but- they said they’d hurt me too, and-“ He sighed, covering his face once more. “I’m a fucking coward.”

Tony couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity. It was obvious that the kid was consumed with guilt- only some of which was warranted. It reminded Tony of himself at that age, willing to do anything just to find a friend who actually liked  _ him,  _ the individual, and not his fame, or his money, or his dad. 

“Maybe,” Tony said. “But you came forward. Turned them in.” Eugene looked up, but didn’t say anything. “But I need to ask,” Tony continued. “Is there anything else you know?” 

“They only stopped when Peter started, like,  _ shaking, _ ” Eugene said tearfully. “And vomiting. When he stopped, we thought he was dead. So they waited until everyone was either gone or blackout drunk to sneak Peter back out to their car to get rid of him. I didn’t go with them. I thought-“ he hesitated, before continuing in a whisper. “I thought they’d killed him. I thought- I thought I actually watched him die.”

“So you were too scared to come forward until now,” Tony inferred. 

“Until I heard from Ned that he was still alive,” Thompson clarified. 

The billionaire sighed. “I can’t say that you’re not going to get in trouble,” he began. “But I can guarantee that it’ll be less than it would’ve been if you hadn’t said anything.”

Eugene nodded, and Tony moved back towards the door, sparing the kid one last glance before heading out. It was time to go back to the tower and check in on Peter. 

  
  


———————-

  
  


_ “Oh my- you guys fucking killed him!” _

_ “Oh relax, would you? You picked him-“ _

_ “No. No, no- you guys are sick.” _

_ “Hey! If you blab about this, you’ll be following Parker to an early grave.” _

  
  


———————-

  
  


“I have a feeling he knows more than he’s letting on,” Peter heard. “I mean… It’s not everyday that someone can get the better of Spider-man. And the way he’s been reacting whenever we ask? I don’t know… I’m just… I’m worried.”

“May,” came another voice, a male voice, “you know what Helen said. Memory loss is consistent with his injuries. It’s perfectly reasonable that he has no idea what happened.”

Peter’s aunt sighed. “I know, Hap. Just… I can’t help it. I haven’t seen him this traumatized since Ben…”

At that, Peter had heard enough. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to be awake. Grasping his medicine pump, he pressed the release and within seconds sleep came back to claim him. 

  
  


———————-

  
  


_ A punch landed.  _

_ “Oh, that’s it, Parker.” _

_ “You’re fucking dead.” _

  
  


———————-

  
  


When Tony walked back into Peter’s room, the kid looked a little better. Not by much- his hair was still uneven from the parts they had to shave for surgery, and parts of his face were still swollen and bruised, but at least those big brown eyes were visible now. 

“Hey,” May greeted when he walked in. “Any news?”

“We have some suspects,” Tony replied, then looked at Peter. “But I still need a statement from you.” The color drained from the kid’s face, rendering him even paler than he already was. “I need to know what you remember, Peter.”

The kid gulped, and used thin arms to push himself up further on the bed. He looked pleadingly at his aunt, who stood, declaring that she’d wait outside until they were done. Peter looked down at his lap and opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again and spoke. 

“I, uh… Ned invited me. To a-a party.”

“Why didn’t you tell your aunt where you were going,” he asked. 

“She was working. And I… I was supposed to be home before she got back.” A tear fell from the boy’s eye and he swiped it away with a shaking hand. “Uhm… Ned went off somewhere with Betty. He said he’d be back, but…” He paused, face scrunching in something between panic and frustration. “I- Mr. Stark-“

“It’s okay,” Tony said. “It’s fine if you leave out details. Just… do your best.”

“Okay,” Peter breathed. “Just-“ his voice wavered and escalated in pitch. “Please don’t be mad.”

Tony frowned. “I won’t be mad. And I can guarantee that May won’t be, either.”

The kid’s face crumpled. “I drank. I- People kept giving me alcohol and I- I drank it, but I thought I knew my limits, I didn’t think I could get drunk!”

“It’s okay-“ Tony tried, but Peter was spiraling. 

“I’m  _ sorry,  _ this is all my fault, I- I shouldn’t have-“

_ “Hey.”  _ Tony’s voice was sharp, and Peter’s mouth snapped shut. The man lowered his voice, moving forward to sit on the bed. “None of this was your fault.”

Peter sniffed. “But- But I-“

“They drugged you,” Tony said. “Helen found GHB in your system.”

The boy was silent for a moment. “What?”

Tony leaned forward, but didn’t speak. He watched Peter’s face as his concussed brain attempted to process the information. 

“What else do you remember,” the man prompted eventually. 

“I, uh… I drank. And then I think someone took me somewhere else. I don’t know where I was.”

“That’s okay,” Tony reassured. 

“And I remember… They took off my clothes,” he whispered. “At least I think they did. I-I’m not sure.”

As it turned out, Peter couldn’t remember anything else. He said he might’ve tried to fight, but he wasn’t sure, and that was all he remembered. He couldn’t remember faces, or names, or what any of them said, but it was enough. What he said matched enough with what that Thompson kid had said. And they had DNA evidence that Helen had collected- skin and blood that had collected underneath Peter’s fingernails that weren’t his. All they needed to do was track down the kids that Thompson had mentioned and match the DNA, and boom. They had a solid case. 

So that’s exactly what Tony did. He took FRIDAY’s recording of Peter’s testimony to the police station and requested that they take care of it. Of course, when Iron Man came to you with a request, it was always more of a demand than anything. The little assholes who did this would pay. 

Tony would make sure of that. 

  
  


———————-

  
  


When Peter was discharged from medical, he didn’t feel ready. Sure, his injuries were mostly healed, and he was only left with lingering pain and fatigue and mild lapses in memory, but he didn’t feel  _ ready.  _

“We’re… Going  _ home?”  _

Peter hated the disappointment in his voice when he asked the question, but May had just barged into the room with a suitcase and started throwing his belongings into it, and it was overwhelming. 

“Yeah, honey, we are. Why? Don’t you want to sleep in your own bed, maybe see your friends?”

_ No,  _ Peter thought, and he couldn’t figure out why until he recognized what he was feeling. Fear. It had become such a constant recently that he barely even realized it anymore. That is, until now, when the thought of leaving the tower turned his blood to ice. 

“Uh- Uhm- Yeah. Yeah. I- I do.”

May’s face fell and she dropped the suitcase. “No, you don’t.” She came over and sat on the edge of his bed, curling a knee towards her chest. “What’s wrong, honey?”

When the tears flooded Peter’s eyes, he couldn’t help it. It felt like he was always crying lately, and he was sick of it. 

“I- I’m just…” He lowered his voice. “I’m  _ scared.”  _ May’s eyebrows furrowed, and the boy rushed to explain. “I’m always scared. I don’t know- I dunno  _ why,  _ I just am.”

His aunt nodded. “Dr. Cho said that anxiety and mood changes could be a… a lasting effect,” she said. “We can work with it. I just need you to talk to me. Okay?”

Peter sniffed. “Okay.”

“Let me go talk with Tony,” May said, reaching out to squeeze his hand, then standing and leaving the room. 

  
  


———————-

  
  


It was decided that Peter would stay at the tower for the time being. He and May had a virtual meeting with Principal Morita, who helped set them up with accommodations to help Peter get his work done. May went back to work part time, and Mr. Stark helped take care of Peter when she was away. The boy expected this to be awkward and uncomfortable, but it was actually far from it. 

Tony was patient with him. He gave Peter extra time to comprehend and respond to the things he said, spent hours helping him with schoolwork, and spoke quiet reassurances when he got frustrated at his sudden cognitive impairment. On bad days, he helped Peter cut his food, sat with him until he fell asleep, tended to him when his head throbbed relentlessly until he threw up. It was strange, Peter thought, how their relationship went from distant to connected so quickly. Tony even changed the music he listened to in the lab from loud classic rock to soft piano ballads and acoustic songs. 

“Do you think I’ll ever be okay again,” Peter asked one day while he sat in the lab watching Tony tinker with a suit. 

“You are okay,” the man replied, not looking up from what he was working on. “Just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re not okay.”

“You know what I mean,” Peter sighed. “What if… What if I can’t… I can’t ever- ever-“ He paused, closing his eyes and groaning in frustration. “This is exactly what I mean! I can’t even  _ talk,  _ Mr. Stark. I’ll never be able to be Spider-man again.”

Tony put down his screwdriver, pulling off his safety glasses and facing his mentee. “Do you remember when we were in Germany?”

“Yeah,” Peter replied. “Fighting Captain America.”

“Right,” Mr. Stark said. “Now do you remember what happened to Rhodey?”

They did this often- Tony would lead a conversation primarily by asking questions to keep Peter’s mind on its toes. It was good brain exercise, even if it was frustrating at times. 

“He- Uh… He fell,” Peter said. 

Even though Tony was the one who brought it up, Peter could still see the man wince in reluctance to talk about it. “Yeah. Broke his spine.”

“Sir, what does this have to do with me?”

He leaned forward. “When he found out he was paralyzed, Rhodey was ready to give up War Machine. He didn’t see how it was possible to keep doing it until I showed him.”

Peter scowled. “That’s completely different.”

“How so?”

“I- There was a way to fix it! You made him braces to be able to walk again.” An angry tear fell down his cheek. “There’s no way to fix my  _ brain,  _ Mr. Stark. I’m gonna be slow and stupid for the rest of my life!”

“Hey,” Tony scolded. “You’re not stupid.”

“I  _ am,  _ though,” Peter cried. “I need help with everything! I used to be able to solve differential equations in seconds. Now it takes me fifteen minutes just to do one.”

“Just because it takes your mind longer to process things doesn’t mean you’re stupid,” Tony said. “You’re just as brilliant as you’ve always been. Yeah, it’ll take you extra time to do things that normally would’ve been easy, but that doesn’t make you stupid. Not in the slightest.”

“But- I- But-“ 

The boy cut himself off with a sob, and Tony began to panic. He got off of his stool and moved to kneel in front of the desk chair where Peter was sitting, crouching down to meet his eyes. 

“What’s got you so worked up?”

“I- I’m- I’m  _ useless,”  _ Peter sobbed. 

“You’re not-“

_ “And I don’t want you to leave!” _

For a startling moment, Tony was silent. He sat there, crouched in front of his protégé, listening to his relentless and heart wrenching sobs. Peter was hysterical, inconsolable, a jumbled mess of “please don’t leave me,” and it was obvious that words alone wouldn’t be able to reach him. The man reached forward and grabbed Peter by the shoulders, gently tugging him forward until they were both on the floor. Arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, the boy buried his face in his mentor’s shirt, holding him almost painfully tightly. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tony soothed softly. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

“B-But I ca-can’t be S-Sp-Spider-man anymore.”

“First of all, you don’t know that,” the man rationalized. “You’re still recovering. There’s still time.” He paused, pushing Peter’s bangs out of his eyes. “Second, even if you couldn’t be Spider-man again, it wouldn’t matter. I would never leave you, okay?” The kid’s crying was finally starting to die down, and Tony rocked them a little where they sat. “You’re more than that suit. You’re brilliant, and you’re kind, and you’re  _ brave-  _ god, you’re so brave.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” the boy sniffed. “I’m always scared now. Ever since…”

“Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared. Hell- I’m always scared, too.”

Peter looked up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Tony replied. “Always. I’m always scared about something happening to Pepper, to Rhodey… to  _ you. _ ” A pause. “But being brave is having the courage to exist even when the world gets scary.”

By now, the boy had stopped crying, instead listening to Tony’s words intently. The man could tell that it was taking a moment for his words to process in Peter’s mind because it took almost a full minute for him to nod and reply. 

“Okay.”

Tony leaned back, trying to look at the teen’s face. “Okay? What do you mean ‘okay’?”

“I mean  _ okay,”  _ Peter replied, looking up at his hero with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I… I trust you. I trust that you won’t leave.”

Tony could see it, he could see the unwavering trust and confidence in the kid’s eyes, and- fuck, it made his chest clench. Peter looked so young like this, with his hair starting to grow back out, all curls and split ends. His cheeks had filled out and had color back in them, no longer pale and hollow like they were in the Medbay. 

They sat there for a while longer, Peter still getting his breathing under control, until the boy’s stomach growled loudly. His cheeks blushed as Tony chuckled. 

“Let’s go get some lunch,” he suggested. 

“‘Kay.”

_ Okay, lunch, _ Tony thought, helping the kid to his feet and leading him upstairs. He may not be able to fix everything, but this was something he could. 

_ Small steps. Small steps.  _

**Author's Note:**

> i left the ending open, which i’m not happy about but i really don’t know how to conclude this without making it unnecessarily long. comment if you have a prompt you want me to fulfill (but i can’t make any promises that i’ll take them all!!)


End file.
